We got some dealings to do before the day
by letscall-l
Summary: Santana takes Quinn to her last ultrasound and finds a lot more to it that she expected. Pre-slash Quinn/Santana, Quinn/Puck


**Title: **We got some dealings to do before the day.

**Fandom****:** Glee friendship/pre-slash- Quinn Fabray / Santana Lopez

**Author****: **letscall_l

**Disclaimer****:** I do not own or mean to offend.

**Warnings****: **gen, pre-slash, spoilers for 'Journey', het.

**Word Count****:** 3440

**Summary:** Santana takes Quinn to her last ultrasound and finds a lot more to it that she expected.

* * *

Santana goes with Quinn to her last ultrasound before her due date. She silently curses under her breath on the drive there. She knows Quinn can hear her and frowns deeper. It's not like she can help it. There's just no other alternative now that she's foolishly been pushed into accompanying the girl.

It had been Puck who'd approached her. His hands shoved to the bottom of his pockets in a way he obviously thought was persuasive and attractive. Santana didn't believe for a second that he was either of that. Yet as soon as he blurted out something about a club in which he was bound to be punched in the face mulitple times and therefore couldn't drive Quinn to her appointment-

Santana had swiftly pulled him close by the shoulders, and if it weren't for the knee she drove directly into his groin, it could have passed as intimate. His hopeful face was almost worth seeing.

In a strange way Santana had stood up for Quinn's condition. Not because she cares or anything. Puck was pissing her off anyway, and really, it's been 8 months he needs to step up and be a fucking man. It's definitely not because Quinn looked sad about it or anything.

She massively regrets it now, because instead of sunning it up and pretending not to run through the steps she has to remember for Regionals in her backyard, she's stuck driving little Miss Bump to the Doctor's office.

As much as she realizes that she's Quinn's last choice (apart from Berry, because that's still one social line Quinnie won't cross), Santana still regrets pulling the blond to the side during Glee and stiffly offering to take her.. Mostly because she hasn't spoken more than those sentences purposely to Quinn in almost 6 months, let alone been friendly.

Not that she feels bad about that either. Anyone who says otherwise will be dealt with.

But even so, even through all of her ignoring measures and quick comments, she's somehow stood by the side of the pregnant girl, who's lying on her back waiting for the ultrasound assistant, with her arms crossed over her chest.

It's her. Not Puck, not Quinn's Mom, not Mercedes or Kurt or Finn or Brittany or Berry. Santana.

Santana is here because no one else was going to be. But heaven be damned she is not here to hold Quinn's hand.

* * *

A part of her, the normal part of her, has to fight not to snigger at the sight of Quinn's elastic waist-pants. She remembers Brittany's quip during Mash-up week and secretly, for a second, she delights in remembering just how far Quinn Fabray has fallen.

It's a poetic sight and even Quinn glances up at her with a slight blush to her cheeks. And so she should, Santana's friend or not, Quinn knows how they work. They exploit, they attack and they destroy. Pregnancy doesn't change that nature.

And then the Assistant pushes up Quinn's thin maternity top.

Quinn's 8 months now. Santana isn't blind to how big she is. She's slowly seen how huge Quinn has gotten during Glee-; how she still manages to slightly part the halls in school, not by status but by size, and the idea of pregnancy, in theory, has prepared her for seeing it.

But seeing the bare baby bump an arms length away from her face is a different story.

Quinn's skin, though stretched and painful looking, is smooth and egg like. Her swollen stomach doesn't look out of place on her young body and if it were anyone else but Quinn, Santana would compliment her. Say how much she suits it. But its Quinn, and as bitchy as it would be, its not right.

And really, despite how withdrawn and how humble she appears to have gotten, Santana doubts Quinn would react kindly to Santana telling her (sarcastic or not) that she suits being pregnant or being a mother. Santana isn't stupid.

A squelching noise interrupts Santana's staring and the unblemished stomach is covered in a colourless gel. Quinn gasps at the contact of the Ultrasound device and within a few seconds of running the remote over her stomach the screen above them flickers.

The sonogram, at first, is nothing more than an unco-ordinated blur of pixels until the Assistant points his finger out.

"...and there's the top of her head, and her hand." Quinn's breathing picks up at this point and Santana finally makes out what's being described.

A tiny fist edges near to the surface of the screen, almost as if it's curling towards the remote. Santana doesn't particularly care or anything. But it's pretty sweet.

* * *

The Ultrasound Assistant, Dr Wu or something, goes to retrieve the DvD Quinn has insisted on having. Santana doesn't know why. Its going to be hard enough for her to give the baby up, knowing Quinn's emotional state first hand, why keep around a reminder.

Her face is still scowling at the lump of jelly substance the Assistant has left on Quinn's stomach. What kind of place are they running, she turns her nose up slightly. It's awkward now that they've been left. Quinn stares over at the paused screen forlornly and Santana almost wants to tell her to get over it and keep it if she's that attached to the damn thing. Or whatever it's called, Beth.

Quinn gasps tightly in a sudden moment. Her shallow breath squeaks uncomfortably and Santana almost has a heart attack. No. There is no way Quinn is having the baby while she's there. It's freaking unfair. Karma is not that twisted to let Quinn's baby to be exposed to her without prior warning or the ability to run.

"Do not even think about letting that kid out yet, I am not about to get blood all over my-" Santana tries to keep the snipe in her voice but its Quinn; Quinn who's pregnant and who, for 5 years, has been Santana's friend/partner in crime. So in the end all she manages to sound is worried.

"No-" Quinn pants and grabs at her hand that's somehow fallen away from it's firm defensive position against Santana's chest and then-

She feels it. Her, even. A small pitter-patter on the palm of her hand. The palm that's pressed against Quinn's soft belly. The tiny fist she just watched punch up is actually punching against her.

A whimper escapes her mouth. Quinn's mouth gapes open in surprise and Santana can only lock eyes and try helplessly to look uneffected by the feeling.

It's suddenly realer than all the drama has exaggerated it to be and Santana wants to punch Puck even more for not being here. As much of a deadbeat as he is, it should be him.

"Impatient much?" Santana's hand is now covered in the jelly gloop spread out on Quinn's stomach, but Quinn's hand isn't letting her move. "Just like her father."

Quinn bites down on her lip and scrunches her eyes. For a second she thinks it was the wrong thing to say.

"I don't - I haven't let him..." Quinn stumbles her words as the baby punches out again. Santana's eyes narrow. "...not since he, since we,"

"Wait, you guys have only done it the once?" Santana spits out.

Quinn nods and looks down at her stomach.

"I didn't want him to touch me, not after all the lies." There's a twinkle of a tear in her eyes. "I screwed up when I let him touch me, be with me, the first time and I just kept thinking 'what if something else happens?'."

Santana scoffs internally.

"What's the worse that could happen? You're already pregnant." She reasons.

The hand holding her against Quinn's bump moves across her knuckles in a way that could be considered comforting. Santana just raises an eyebrow.

"I don't like how I feel when he touches me. It's like, he can be such a nice guy," Quinn looks to the ceiling. "He holds my hand and smiles and I forget. And then he'll,"

Santana feels a flare of irrational irritation at the despair Quinn projects in her description.

"He'll go to touch my stomach or kiss me and I'm right back there downing a wine cooler and cheating and going against everything,"

It's occurred to Santana, before Quinn starts to explain how Puck took her virginity and knocked her up, that it wasn't altogether consensual. Not that she thinks Puck forced her or any other despicable things. But girls like Quinn Fabray don't give it up to guys like Puck when they have their senses about them. That's the difference between Santana and Quinn.

Santana feels the final tap of a fist under her hand and realizes.

"He's never felt her kick?"

Quinn's restraint on her tears breaks when Santana asks.

"He can sing to her, he can name her and he can be there for the birth," The pressure keeping her hand on Quinn's stomach increases. "But he'll never touch her. He'll never touch her like he with did me."

Santana wants to argue on Puck's behalf. To say that he wouldn't touch her like Quinn, it's his daughter. His flesh, his blood as much as it is Quinn's.

But maybe, Santana pauses, Quinn is right. Maybe just sharing his blood and his namesake is already too much. Maybe Quinn is right to protect the daughter she'll bring into the world.

"He loves you." Santana states, not entirely believing her words.

"He thinks he does." Quinn says absently. "He loves her. Maybe."

The Assistant bumbles around outside the room they're in and Quinn lets her hand up only to tangle their gel covered palms together. Santana squeezes their fingers together accidentally whilst trying to free them. Quinn clasps on.

"I think he loves the idea of her more." Quinn raises her other hand to rub at the side of her belly button. "He loves the idea of proving to everyone that he's not a deadbeat or a loser. But he forgets,"

Santana looks at their threaded hands unconsciously.

"He forgets all the things he'd have to give up to be a father to her. All the parties he'd miss, the people he'd meet, the girls he'd hook up with," Quinn's bitterness doesn't gloss over the fact that both her and Santana know that Puck is unlikely to stick it out with Quinn after the birth. He might try just to cling onto the last memories of Beth and the woman he shared her with. In the end, however, his nature would overrun that desire.

Their hands are still sticky and intertwined when Dr Wu returns with the disk for Quinn. She smiles politely and places it in her bag; while Santana holds onto her and helps her down from the horizontal chair. Quinn doesn't look at her until she's wiped the rest of the gel off and pulled down her shirt. The bump is once again hidden, protecting the child inside her from the eyes of the rest of the world.

Santana accepts the tissue to clean her own hand off. She listens dutily to Quinn thanking the Doctor and the schedule he expects for Quinn in the next few weeks. There's reminders of what to keep around with her. Designated drivers, that aren't Santana, phone numbers and breathing. Quinn nods along, smiling weakly at all the right places with as much enthusiasm as Santana has for Mr Schuester's weekly motivational speeches.

Then they're ready to go.

* * *

The ride to Puck's is silent again. With Santana pondering how different it feels to be dropping someone else off at Puck's doors rather than going for herself. Not that she has in a long while. She may be a bitch, but she hasn't touched Puck intimately since before Sectionals.

Bros before hos, even if that Bro is pregnant and not interested in the Ho at all.

She doesn't know what Quinn thinks about. She just rests an elbow on the door and the other wraps around her belly. Hazel eyes wistfully gaze out of the window, lost in her own mind and troubles. And there are troubles because she continues her furrowed brow until Santana parks up and switches off the engine.

"Thank you." She whispers but doesn't move to leave. Santana doesn't ask her to either. "I know that you probably had better things to do,"

"You're telling me." Santana slips out cruelly before closing her mouth again. Yeah, it was a pain. Yeah, she had other things on her agenda. Yeah, she likes to rub that in Quinn's face but, she needs her brownie points with the girl for the sake of other people.

Surprisingly Quinn grins at her, like she knows Santana's front is weaker than it appears, and the air isn't as stuffy.

"It means more than just you giving up an afternoon for me." Quinn turns her knees to point at her. A subtle shift of attention. "I know that lately we haven't been,"

"Stop, look Q," Santana interrupts her. "I don't want you to explain why you think we've been distant. You're a walking social disaster, I'm a cheerleading bitch. Don't try to make excuses for either of us."

Santana regrets her words a little when Quinn gives a quick nod and doesn't move.

"I didn't mean." Santana lets out a heavy sigh and rolls her eyes. "Look, babygate shook everyone. Not just you."

It shook up more than just Quinn and Finn, and then Quinn and Puck. Everywhere she turned there was talk. Santana couldn't even look at Puck for weeks after, let alone struggle through their Sectionals performance. Even Brittany, who saw the best in everyone, confided to her in her monosyllabic way that she didn't think it was right.

"And it's crap. It's crap what he did. It's crap you lied and cheated. And it's crap that you have to have this baby and give it up. And I guess it's crappier to know that there's going to be one more Puckerman out there in the world."

At the last addition Quinn's smirk rises again and Santana throws her own back.

"And she is a Puckerman. But y'know what? She's a freaking Fabray as well." Santana's body shifts to face Quinn. "And that means she's going to be strong, stubborn as hell, with an overbearing conscience that is probably going to overrule any shittier parts of Puck's genes."

Quinn is smiling freely now. Santana has managed that.

"And I'm not going to make excuses, I haven't been supportive,"

"For reasons already stated, if it were you in my-"

"I know." Santana interrupts again. If it were Santana in Quinn's position, Quinn probably wouldn't have been anymore attentive. "And I know I'm late, and I'm probably not the most enthusiastic or nicest choice,"

She finishes in a quiet trail of words that reassure Quinn. They don't make much sense.

"And once it's all over?" Quinn questions. Her eyes are looking over to Puck's front door now and Santana is looking at the cracks in the fabric of her car seats.

"One day at a time Q." Santana promises. She can't predict what it'll all be like as much as she can predict how they'll fare at Regionals.

Maybe they'll be best friends again. Maybe Quinn will rejoin the Cheerios. Maybes and maybe nots.

It's all the promise Quinn appears to need as her smooth hand reaches for the lock on the door. The metal clunks open and her foot is almost on the pavement when Santana stops her.

"He hasn't touched you." He hasn't touched her stomach, her baby - his baby.

Quinn shakes her head over her shoulder. "No."

Santana sees her arm outstretched over the seats, almost grasping Quinn back, but just falling short.

"Then why did you let me back in that office. She's got nothing to do with me." Santana almost hears Brittany's wondering voice in her head chirp in with ' _Yeah, Santana isn't the Dad _' or something as equally as mortifying. And gay.

The curl in Quinn's pink lips are mirrored in the protective curl of her arms cradling her baby. It's so instinctive and natural that Santana unconsciously finds the motion beautiful.

"I trust you."

Santana feels the word 'trust' thrust her back into her seat with a force. It's not a word she applies herself; there's too much competition in her life and on her squad for her to trust anyone. Bar Brittany.

And it's certainly not a word Quinn uses too much anymore.

Quinn trusts her.

Santana pops the lock on her door and strides around to Quinn's side. The door is pushed aside quickly. Santana's head rings with trust and reaches out for Quinn's hand.

And pulls.

Quinn finds her feet on the sidewalk and steadies herself.

A quiet thank you is barely heard when Santana spots Puck peeping at them through his bedroom blinds. A part of her, the un-normal part, almost wants to push Quinn away or back into her car and confront Puck. But the confrontation wouldn't be anything new, just the same old words and accusations. It wouldn't stop Puck from getting Quinn drunk. It wouldn't take back her lies or Finn's outing of her pregnancy to her parents. And it certainly wouldn't make Santana better.

"Santana." Quinn brings her back from staring. She looks up at Quinn for what seems like the first time in an era. "I'll be fine."

Santana nods durably and closes the door behind Quinn. Quinn steps to her side and waits.

"I'll see you at school, S." She offers as a way of goodbye.

Quinn's flat shoes barely make it a pace or two away when Santana calls out uncharacteristcaly.

"Quinn,"

Blond hair whips around and rests on cardigan clad shoulders. Santana flushes at the way the light hits her. Glowing in a bright glory. She almost doesn't speak.

"I do...too." She puts out. Quinn dips her head and gives her a confused look.

Santana can see Puck from the corner of her eye. Even from a distance is suspicion is clear and she wants to kick him again to get him to but out.

Her shoulders set stubbornly as Santana has to spell it out to Quinn.

"I trust you too, jeeze." She quickly snaps trying not too reveal the effect that's being had on her. "I thought you were meant to be smart. Maybe the baby really is affecting your brain."

Quinn doesn't roll her eyes or scowl. She doesn't deter the meaning of Santana's words in anyway or belittle them.

She just smiles. Teeth peek out over her bottom lip and she beams. Santana is glad Puck can't see it. It's a smile for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She leaves her warmly sending a shiver of anticipation throughout Santana's body. She leans her back against the body of her car until Quinn has disappeared, with a backward glance and wreak wristed wave, into Puck's house.

And then she can breathe again.

* * *

She's not the first to see Quinn after she gives birth. In fact, Santana doesn't see her until the morning after. The disappointment and sickly emotion left in the pit of her stomach after hearing the results of Regionals still lingers.

Santana finds her way to a lonely seat next to Quinn's bed while the tired girl sleeps. Puck is slumped outside in the corridor waiting until the nursery opens so he can glimpse on Beth. Like she predicted, like Quinn said, Puck is already grasping at straws of the connection he imagines he'll keep with the little girl with a tuft of hair.

The light from the window is mostly obscured from Quinn's face but the remaining traces of pregnancy still emit from Quinn's face. Her hair is plastered to the side of her neck and forehead. Scraps of collar and skin are on show from under a gown. Santana doesn't have the heart to wake her.

If it were anyone else, she would probably fall asleep with them. Ignore boundaries and relationships and share the thin sheet tucked around Quinn.

But Santana doesn't have the heart to wake her.

Instead she winds a hand through the bars of the bed and strokes the sleeping girl's knuckles until the feeling lulls Santana into her own slumber, a propped elbow on the side of Quinn's bed and a warm touch of skin.

And trust.

**fin**


End file.
